Without a Trace
by RositaLG
Summary: When Brennan goes missing, it's up to Booth to find her.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is for my TwitterMom and go-to beta: Someonetookmyname. She cashed in her JPs (Jenny Points) for a Rescue!Booth request (like in Aliens, but without the laughing in the coal pit). My original intent was to make the JP fics oneshots, but we all know how that turned out with "You and Tequila" so here we go again. What can I say? My friends know how to make a prompt go on forever. They are shifty bitches like that. (But that's also why I adore them so.) This takes place sometime after 'The Man In The Cell' in Season Two and let's pretend the Gravedigger never happened or this would be a **_**very**_** traumatized team. **

**OOOOO**

**Friday evening**

Panic.

Blinding, terrifying, sheer panic.

That was the only emotion coursing through Booth's system as he saw her car in the Jeffersonian lot. The driver's side door was ajar and her keys were still in the door. She had been unlocking her vehicle. The other agents and Jeffersonian security were already on the scene and they were keeping him back. He heard Angela's stifled gasp behind him and he whipped around.

"Get back in the lab. Do not leave. Not even with security." Angela nodded. He didn't bother saying anything to comfort her. He was already in army mode.

"Get me that security footage. Now." He commanded.

He had a partner to find.

**OOOOO**

**Friday evening**

Brennan reached up and touched her blood-matted hair on the back of her aching head. She wasn't sure how long she had been unconscious but the van was still moving. For all she knew, she could have only been out for a few minutes. She listened hard for any signs of her captors or sounds of the city but everything was quiet. Too quiet. She opened her eyes slowly and realized that the back of the van that she was in was soundproofed. Her kidnappers could have been shouting in the front seat and she would never know.

She wasn't sure if she should be grateful for the time to gather her thoughts and prepare a plan or if she should be nervous by the fact that they were already a step ahead of her. They had to be professionals.

She pulled some of the fibers off the wall and stuck them in her pocket. If she got out of this, Hodgins could analyze them. Or even if she didn't for that matter. Would they let her team perform her autopsy? She pushed the morose thought aside and focused on the rational. It was easier to focus on the rational.

Why would anyone send professionals to kidnap her?

A case she had worked on, maybe? They hadn't solved any gang or mob cases recently. She hadn't been brought in by any governments to analyze any genocides or guerrilla-connected bodies in years. Ironically, now that she was working with Booth and the FBI, she was safer than she had ever been.

Maybe it wasn't case-related, maybe it was because she was a famous author. She mentally reviewed the latest threats her publisher had received on her most recent press tour. They had been sloppy for the most part: fanatical fans who wanted attention. The threats hadn't been taken seriously by anyone, let alone her. She might have been targeted for her money, but anyone who knew she had money also knew that she didn't really have a family to contact.

Her family.

Professional criminals.

The light bulb clicked as she connected the dots. Were they looking for Max? Russ? She knew that had to be the reason; nothing else fit. If they were hoping to grill her for information they were out of luck. She knew nothing of their whereabouts. She had nothing to share. Then again, maybe just her body was enough. The fastest way to Max had always been through his family.

The van slowed and she laid back down, certain that if she could play dead long enough, she could gather some relevant information. Maybe find out what they wanted from her. She had to be prepared for when Booth found her.

Booth.

She was supposed to be meeting him after work. He would already know that she was missing.

Or he might think that she had changed her mind and stood him up. The thought sent her into a momentary panic. If he thought that she had stood him up, he would be too proud to try and talk to her. It was Friday night. No one would miss her until Monday. Oh, please don't be that stupid, she silently begged. He had to find her, if only just so she could tell him all of the things that she had never said.

Now she might not get the chance.


	2. Chapter 1

**OOOOO**

**A/N: Immediate Chapter One. Because even I'm not that mean. **

**Wednesday morning**

"Hey, I thought I told you never to leave me alone with Zack ever agai..." Booth froze in her doorway as he saw her troubled face. "What's wrong?" He asked, immediately checking his internal reaction of wanting to reach out and hold her.

"It's a note." She said sadly. "From my Dad." Booth sighed.

"The first one?" She nodded as she set it down. He couldn't help but look for the envelope, hoping it would give them some clue as to where they were.

"No postmark. It was hand delivered." She said, knowing what he was looking for.

"What does it say?" He asked hesitantly, unsure if she actually wanted to talk about it.

"Just that he is watching out for me. Like he did when I was younger." She threw the letter down on the desk. "Why is he doing this?" She asked Booth, wanting an answer to an unanswerable question. "He handcuffed me to a bench and drove off. He left me. Again. He doesn't have the right to just contact me whenever he wants. It's not fair." She had no control over the situation and he knew better than anyone what that did to her.

Now he also knew why.

"He wants you to know that it wasn't personal, you know? That he loves you and cares about you. A dad just wants his kids to be happy." She gave him an annoyed roll of her eyes. He could tell that she wanted to argue but she knew what being a good father meant to him so she let it slide.

"Well, I'm not happy." She said as she threw the letter in the trash and walked out of her office.

**OOOOO**

**Wednesday evening**

She stared into her glass as a voice cut through her dark thoughts.

"Whatcha doing?" She heard Booth ask from behind her. She didn't bother to turn around, simply waited for him to occupy the stool next to her.

"Just sitting here wondering which version of the story is worse: knowing that he abandoned me or knowing that he kept tabs on me for all those years, saw all of that pain, and didn't do anything about it."

"Max was just doing what he thought was best. He was just, you know, trying to protect you the only way he knew how." She was tired of people telling her that. It wasn't for the best. Watching your daughter go through all that she had gone through without offering any help was sick. She would never agree with his decision, no matter how well intentioned.

"Do you remember when I cried in that barn? When the pig farmer kept calling me Joy?" She turned to ask Booth. He looked surprised by her question but nodded. "It was so ironic that I spent my entire life identifying people for a living and I didn't even know who I really was." She drained the last of her glass and set it back down on the bar with a hollow thud.

"I know who you are." He said it with so much certainty that she had to give him her attention. "You're Bones." He said simply. She sighed and rolled her eyes at his answer. Still, he had gotten her to smile. "Who you are has nothing to do with your name. Every day, you show people who you are with your actions. You're a good-hearted, brilliant scientist who is saving the world with every case you solve." He smiled at her. "You don't need anyone else to tell you who you are, Bones. You've always known, all by yourself." Before she knew what she was doing, she laid her head on his shoulder. She felt his breathing hitch before he inhaled slowly. The world was starting to spin and she knew she should probably stop drinking.

"Let me take you home." It was more of a question than a command and she nodded, giving her permission. He helped her off of her barstool and she wrapped an arm around his waist, needing him to stay upright. If Booth was surprised by the action, he didn't let on. He helped her out to the sidewalk and flagged down a cab. She slid into the backseat and he followed behind her, giving the driver her address. In her inebriated state, she couldn't resist curling up against his warm chest as she leaned against him. He just felt so solid, so secure. She needed him tonight in a way that both frightened her and sent her blood racing all at once.

Once they arrived, Booth escorted her upstairs and helped her to her room. Brennan crawled onto her bed, wanting to stop her crazy day from continuing another second longer. But her sheets felt cold against her overheated flesh and it sent a chill right through her.

"Booth?" She called him back.

"Yeah?" He appeared almost instantly, a glass of water and some aspirin in hand. She smiled inwardly at the kind gesture. He handed her the pills and she took them dutifully. She returned the half-empty glass of water back to him and he set it on her bedside table, obviously hopeful that she would continue to drink it.

"Would you, would you stay with me tonight?" She asked, unable to even look at him as she asked. Even in her intoxicated state, she knew what she was asking was more than he had ever offered. "I don't want to be alone." She added as she finally looked up at him.

"Of course." She blinked at his automatic reaction. He hadn't even thought twice. He toed off his shoes and sat down on the edge of her bed. "You know you never have to be alone, right? We're always here for you. Angela, Hodgins, me? All you have to do is ask and any or all of us would be here in a heartbeat." He pulled the sheets towards him and she slid under as he tucked her in like a small child. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had tucked her in. She had been far too independent as a child to allow for such foolishness: big girls tucked themselves in. They required no help from their parents. Then again, maybe that was just as well as her parents hurried out the door to rob banks as soon as she was asleep.

"I don't want anyone else." She informed him groggily. "I just want you." She closed her eyes and sleep overcame her.

**OOOOO**

**Saturday Morning**

She wanted to wake up. Why couldn't she open her eyes?

They had drugged her.

She slowly remembered where she was, the prick of a needle as they filled her with sedatives before taking her out of the van.

These people took no chances.

She tentatively reached up to examine her head. She winced as her fingertips made contact with the open laceration. She had no idea what they hit her with, but she hoped that it had been clean. She knew an infection would be worse than a concussion in this situation.

As she finally got her eyes to cooperate, she looked at the ceiling above her. It wasn't a ceiling at all, but a steel trap door. She slowly got up and climbed the ladder in the wall to push on it. She wasn't surprised when it didn't budge. She glanced around. She was in a small room, about the size of her walk-in closet at home. There were no lights, no windows, and no furniture. There was a tarp covering the floor and she had been lying on top of a dirty blanket. She immediately checked her pockets but there was nothing in them. They had taken her phone and probably destroyed it. These people really knew what they were doing. But then again, so did Booth.

_"I used to do this kind of work."_

_"What, rescuing people?"_

_"Or being the person they needed to be rescued from." _

_"Oh."_

_"But if I had a choice, I picked an isolated, rural area."_

Is that where she was now? An isolated, rural area? She had no idea where she was, who had taken her, what they planned on doing with her, or why she was taken.

Booth would know; he always knew why people did things.

Still, that thought did little to cheer her up at the moment. Now, sitting in the dark, she felt lost and more alone than she ever had. She sat down and closed her eyes.

_Hurry, Booth. I need you to hurry._

**OOOOO**

**Wednesday evening**

Booth stared at the clock and then again at her sleeping form. He had been watching her for over an hour, just sitting on the edge of her bed, unable to move. Part of him knew that he should head for the couch. It was late and he needed to work tomorrow. But another part of him knew that she needed him close by, only him, for whatever reason and he couldn't bear the thought of her waking up alone after all that she had gone through that day. She had already been abandoned by her father and her brother, he wasn't about to be yet another man who left her when she needed him most. Especially when she had been vulnerable enough to specifically ask him to stay.

_I just want you._

Her words (and their implicit trust in him) had been touching, but they had also unleashed a fury of questions that he had not been expecting to deal with. The biggest one being: "Why me?"

Because he was her partner?

Because they were friends?

Because she may actually feel something for him?

He shook the thoughts out of his head. He moved to the other side of her bed. There was more than enough room and he laid down over the comforter. He figured resting his eyes wouldn't hurt but the second he closed them, her presence overwhelmed him. The scent of her on the sheets, the body heat radiating off of her skin, her light but steady breathing, it all mixed in the dark and invaded his senses. He couldn't resist turning onto his side and looking at her. It was such a rare opportunity, one that he was certain he would never get again. His gaze trailed down her profile in the dark: the slight curve of her nose, her strong chin that was so often shoved into the air when she spoke, the gentle roll of her pale shoulder sticking out from under the sheets.

She was his Bones.

Even if she felt lost, he would always know who she was. Beautiful, strong, stubborn, Bones. He closed his eyes again, safe in the knowledge that he could help her through this. He would never leave her alone.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter 2**

**OOOOO**

**Thursday morning**

Brennan woke easily the next morning, her mind stirring as she stretched her stiff limbs. She realized almost instantly that it was brighter in her room than it should be. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the clock on her bedside table. As the red numbers came into view, she sat up with a jolt.

It was 9:30.

She leapt out of bed, searching for her phone so she could notify work that she would be coming in late but she couldn't find it. She ran out into the living room, hoping that it was still in her purse when she was stopped dead in her tracks by Booth sitting on her couch eating a bowl of cereal. He was still wearing the clothes he had on yesterday.

"It's 9:30." She informed him as if he didn't know.

"I know. I called us both in. Cam understood." He took another bite of his cereal.

"You did what?" She waited impatiently as he swallowed the bite before responding to her question.

"Bones, you had a hell of a day yesterday. You need to take the day and regroup, okay? You're strong, I get that, but even the strongest people need to take time off every once and awhile to..."

"What I need is to go to work!" She cut him off and went back to her bedroom to shower. If she hurried, she could still make it to work in time to...

The sight of Booth's shoes at the foot of her bed reminded her that she had asked him to stay with her last night. She closed her eyes and cringed. In the sobering light of day, she hated herself for being so needy. In fact, she was so angry with herself for needing him that she turned right back around and headed into the living room to take it out on Booth.

"And who are you to tell me what I need?" She asked, picking up right where she left off. "You had no right to turn off my alarm. And calling my work? What would possess you to do that? I can take care of myself, Booth!" She argued. He ignored her and continued munching away on his cereal, his eyes glued to some ridiculous sports news show. She stomped over and turned off the TV and stood in front of it, wanting his attention. "Answer me!" She demanded.

Booth sighed and finally set down his cereal bowl.

"Are you always this angry after drinking too much or is it just me?" He asked.

"What?" She cried, confused by his question.

"The last time you drank too much, you ended up in a huff at my crime scene." He reminded her.

"Because you fired me!" She yelled back.

"You punched a federal judge!"

"I'm about to punch you!" She threatened.

"You know, I'm realizing I like drunk Brennan a lot more than hungover Brennan. Drunk Brennan is nice and sweet and invites me into her bed. Hungover Brennan always ends up hitting me." Booth teased darkly.

"What happened to you not being my Dad?" She asked, throwing his own words back at him years later.

"Yeah, unlike Max, I'm the one who's actually trying to stick around long enough to take care of you." He shot right back. She stared at him, her eyes burning angry holes into his before losing it.

"Gaaaah!" She put her hands out in a strangling pose and let out a frustrated cry. "You are impossible!" She screamed as she headed for her bedroom.

"Look who's talking!" He called out as he sat back down on the couch. She slammed the door behind her and she was alone again, her entire body vibrating with frustrated rage.

God, why did he have to be so difficult?

She was angry. Angry and...something else. She paused to consider how she felt.

Turned on?

Her blood was pounding through her body and awakening all of the nerves under her feverish skin.

She shook off the feeling and focused on the anger. She stomped off to the shower and turned on the water. As she waited for the water to warm up, she undressed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were blazing and her skin was flushed. Her mind flashed back to Booth's dark eyes staring into her own unflinchingly. They had been just as alive, nearly black with passion, despite his outwardly calm exterior.

The steam emanating from the shower beckoned her and she stepped inside the cocoon of warm air. The spray of the shower eased her tense muscles and she felt herself relax instantly. She leaned her head back, soaking her hair and exposing her neck, imagining the tickle she felt from the spray was actually Booth's lips on her neck.

Her entire body reacted at the treacherous thought, her nipples puckering and her thighs growing damp with her desire. She pictured the way his muscles tensed when he was angry, the strong way he would take control and pin her against the shower wall if she let him. She thought of his strong, firm hands running over her body as her own hands ghosted over her torso.

She fleetingly realized that she would probably obsess over what this moment of weakness meant later, but for now, she knew precisely what she needed.

**OOOOO**

**Thursday morning**

Booth sat on the couch, stewing in annoyance over Brennan's reaction. He was only trying to help.

A normal person would have been grateful.

She had been vulnerable and open last night and in some sort of sick pendulum swing, she was now being overly independent. She was pushing him away, if only to prove to herself that she could. He sighed in frustration as he stood up and took his cereal bowl to the sink. Why couldn't she just let down her guard a little without turning into a terror the next day? It's not like he couldn't be trusted. He posed no threat to her.

He heard her re-emerge from her bedroom and he almost didn't turn around for fear of what she would do if he moved too suddenly. But, deciding it was also possible that he would have to defend himself from objects being hurled at his head, he kept an eye on her in his peripheral vision. She was wearing a silk robe, her hair still in wet curls. Once again, the smell of her soap or shampoo or something wafted through the air and drove him wild. How was it possible that one woman could constantly smell so enticing?

_Pheromones._He heard Brennan's pedantic voice answer quickly.

Great, now he was hearing her inside his head too. Booth mentally slammed the door shut on that idea. This was his partner and he was not going to go there. There was a line, he reminded himself, and Cam had nearly died the last time he had crossed it. Besides, as Brennan so clearly pointed out this morning, she could be nearly impossible to deal with when she wanted to be. They would kill each other within the week.

Deciding it was safe to turn around, he watched as she pulled some oatmeal out of the cupboard and went about preparing her breakfast in silence.

"Feeling better?" He asked as he leaned up against her counter, his arms folded protectively against his chest.

"Much." She said, refusing to look at him.

"Good." He replied hesitantly, unsure of what she meant. He had a thousand questions he wanted to ask. Was their fight was over or was she still mad at him for trying to take care of her? Why wasn't she making eye contact with him? And why must she insist on being the most infuriating woman he had ever met?

"Well, I'll guess I'll head out then." He said as he made his way towards the door.

"Booth?" Her voice stopped him dead in his tracks and he had to marvel at the power she held over him. He turned around. "Thank you for last night." She said quietly. She looked...shy, embarrassed even maybe. It wasn't something he was used to seeing from her.

"Any time." He said sincerely. "Hey, it's what partners do, right? We take care of each other." She nodded and they seemed to reach a mutual understanding. Booth gave a small wave before heading out the door. But as soon as he closed the door behind him, he felt another one opening, ever so slightly, in his heart.

**OOOOO**

**Saturday evening**

He was sitting in her office, looking over her calendars, going through her email, anything he could think of that might help him find her. He knew it was useless. She hadn't expected this anymore than they had but a part of him felt better being surrounded by her.

A knock on her office door turned out to be Angela, holding a cup of coffee.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"I can't sleep, Ange."

"Have you tried? I just did. I feel better."

"Everytime I close my eyes..." he didn't bother finishing his statement. She walked to the desk and set the cup of coffee down.

"Look at me." She demanded. He did as he was told. "Brennan is the strongest person I have ever met. She has taken out gang members, and guerrillas in the jungle, and survived more than any person should and she did it all alone." She reminded him. "And now that she knows that she has people fighting for her, she's going to fight even harder." He knew that she was right. "You can sleep for an hour and this time when you close your eyes, picture Brennan giving those assholes just as hard of a time as she gives you." Booth wanted to chuckle, but he didn't have the energy to spare.

"We were supposed to meet last night."

"I know." Angela nodded sympathetically.

"Things were finally, we were finally..." He stopped as he felt himself getting emotional. Angela rubbed his shoulder.

"Sleep." She reminded him. "She needs you on top of your game. She would kick your hypocritical ass if she knew that you hadn't eaten or slept yet. We'll wake you up if we find out anything." He nodded and glanced to the couch. Angela flipped off the lights on her way out and Booth was left alone in the dark.

**OOOOO**

**Saturday evening**

"Courtesy of your father." A man said as a small loaf of bread dropped from the ceiling.

Brennan looked up in surprise. It was barely bigger than her palm, but she was desperately hungry. Part of her wondered if she should ration it in case it was the last bit of food she got in a while, but her stomach growled violently and she knew that it was pointless. She bit off a piece and relished the flavor on her tongue.

What did they mean?

They were rewarding her because of Max? Had they gotten whatever it was they wanted? Would they let her go if they had?

Or maybe Max had just contacted them and they realized they had to keep her alive now, use her as a tactic in some sort of sick trade negotiation?

For the first time in her life, she didn't care the reason. She was eating and right now, that was enough.

**OOOOO**

**Thursday afternoon**

Brennan couldn't stop pacing. She couldn't concentrate on anything. Every time she tried to focus on something else, images of Booth from the night before and that morning bombarded her senses.

He was invading her life, slowly taking up space in her mind. What had happened that morning in the shower could not happen again. Booth had laid down a line for a reason. The rules made sense and she had agreed with them. After all, it could have very easily been one of them lying in that hospital bed instead of Cam and the thought of him lying there instead... Well, she couldn't even let herself imagine that scenario.

Brennan thought back to all that he had done for her in the past year. He had taken good care of her, despite her not deserving it some days and she was grateful for that. But then there were times when it took everything she had not to strangle him.

She paused halfway through her living room as she recalled her father's latest murdering streak. Apparently, there was something to be said for nature over nurture.

**OOOOO**

**Thursday afternoon**

Booth ran.

It kept him in shape but he mostly it helped clear his head. And lately, all of his thoughts revolved around her. Today, he was focusing on her words from the night before.

She wanted him.

Only him.

He knew that her reliance on him during her mother's case had changed their relationship. For the first time in her life, she needed someone and he liked being the person that she needed. But that reliance also freaked him out. It was hard to keep a professional relationship with someone who needed you like that, especially given their rocky romantic past. There were times when he just wanted to kiss her until she forgot about all of the pain in her life. He wanted to make things right for her again.

Their adventure in Vegas hadn't helped matters any. He had gotten to see a completely different side of her and he wondered how much of that undercover assignment was acting and how much was the freedom to be themselves. Still, there was no point in wondering. He knew that they couldn't let it get that far in their real lives. Not after Cam had nearly died.

Looking back, it was easy to see that his recent sexual relationships with Cam and Rebecca had stemmed from his fear over his growing relationship with Bones. It had been the perfect backslide. Booth could work off some of his sexual tension and still keep his relationship with Brennan intact.

Or so he thought.

His mind wandered back to her words from last night.

_"I just want you." _

Something within him stirred and he picked up his pace, needing at least one more lap to quiet his mind.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter 3**

**Saturday afternoon**

"No, no, no! This has to do with Max! I don't know how yet, but he sprung up out of the blue for the first time in decades and now she is missing. That's not a coincidence!" Booth cried into his phone. "They know that the way to Max is through her." He groaned in frustration as someone fed him yet another line about being too involved in this case.

"Hang up, Cher, I got something." Caroline said as she came barging into his office without so much as a knock.

"I gotta go." Booth hung up on the person and gave Caroline his full attention.

"There was a rumor of an ex-military team that was known for doing this type of work back in the seventies. Even got the drop on a few well-known criminals back in the day. Bad guys kidnapping bad guys and holding them hostage until they got whatever they wanted out of 'em. It takes a lot of skill to catch the uncatchable."

"The 1970s, that would tie them to Max." Booth said as he grabbed the top file and scanned it quickly. "Nothing? We have nothing on these guys? How is that possible?"

"They were smarter than us." Caroline said dryly. "No evidence, no witnesses, and the victims were all bad guys who weren't exactly willing to tell their stories, if you know what I mean."

"Caroline, this is Bones!" He said, getting angry. "If we get her out of there, she's going to talk!" Booth's face blanched as he realized what he had just said.

Because chances were good, they knew that too.

Caroline saw the knowing look in Booth's eyes and immediately started preparing for battle.

"I'm on it, Cherie." She said curtly before leaving the office with her game face on.

Booth slunk back into his chair, the reality of the situation coming through loud and clear.

How do you play a game when the other player holds all the cards?

**OOOOO**

**Friday morning**

"Booth?" She called him back, wanting to talk to him privately. He nodded and shut the door to her office as he made his way back inside.

"What's up, Bones?" Judging by the privacy, he figured it was something to do with her dad's letter.

"I just, I wanted to say thank you again for staying with me Tuesday night. It, um, it meant a lot to me that you would do that. And I'm sorry that you have to keep taking care of me. This past year has been..."

"Hey, don't be sorry." Booth said, moving closer to her as he cut her off. "I like that you feel safe with me. I want to be the one who gets to take care of you, work-related or not." She looked up into his eyes and suddenly he found it hard to breathe. His words had taken on a larger meaning than he originally intended and she had clearly heard what he was really saying.

"You do?" She asked, searching his eyes to see if he would confirm what he had just implied or backpedal with an alternate excuse.

"Yeah, I do." He said, taking a chance as he reached out and brushed his fingers over hers. She smiled and maybe even blushed a little at the action before coming to her senses and distancing herself from him.

"But, what about the line?" She wanted to know. "We agreed that after what happened to Cam, it would be a mistake." Booth sighed.

"I had an epiphany last night." He explained. "Those things: the bombs, the threats, the kidnappings, the poison, they happened to us despite our relationship status." He reminded her. She frowned adorably as she considered his words and he once again found himself fighting the urge to kiss her. "But I know that after those things happen, you're the first person I want to wrap my arms around and I think that having you next to me would make all of those things easier to deal with." She looked down at her hands and Booth tipped her chin up with his knuckle. "Look, I'm not saying we have to jump into anything now. Just...think about it." She nodded and he smiled. "Good, I'll see you later." He said, taking his hand back and leaving her office swiftly.

He made it as least three steps before he realized that he had just thrown every single one of his cards on the table. He had nothing left to play.

**OOOOO**

**Friday afternoon**

Booth's phone buzzed in his pocket and he reached down to check the caller ID. Her name lit up the screen.

_Bones_

His stomach did a somersault as he debated on opening the text. In the end, the fact that it might be case-related won him over.

_I've thought about it. Meet me at the Founding Fathers in half an hour?_

Booth read and re-read the text before sending his response. Leave it to her to be comfortably vague when his entire life felt like it was hanging in the balance.

_Sure. Any hints re: your decision?_

He waited a minute before she replied.

_Where's the fun in that? See you soon._

Booth grinned so hard, he was certain his face was about to crack in half.

She was giving him a chance.

This was finally their beginning.

**OOOOO**

**Sunday Afternoon**

Brennan had been given her bread on what she thought was Saturday. She wasn't sure what day it was, but she was certain that it had been more than 24 hours since she had last eaten. She felt faint, her hands were shaking and she couldn't remember the last time she had had something to drink. Her lips were cracked, bloodied from the dehydration.

She heard men talking above her door and she wondered if she was actually going to be given some water. She strained her ears, desperate to hear something that might tell her why she was here. She heard Max's name and she climbed up the ladder to the edge of the door to hear more but they had already passed by. The loss of potential information was the straw that broke the anthropologist's back.

She started to cry, unable to keep it together another second longer. It had been two days and she hadn't even seen a face. Even if she was rescued, she would have absolutely nothing to give the FBI. She had no evidence.

Booth would have certainly figured out why she was being held by now. He would know what to do. He worked on no evidence all the time. His gut would tell him what he needed to know in this situation. But she didn't have a gut, she only had a brain. She cried harder at her incompetence.

She was completely helpless.

**OOOOO**

**Sunday Afternoon**

Booth stared at the little bit of information Caroline had dug up on this kidnapping team. He had a few newspaper reports, some police reports, but really, when all was said and done, he had nothing to go on.

He had never been so frustrated. Physical evidence wasn't his job. It was hers. He handed a body to the team and they dealt with it. He, on the other hand, talked to people, visited places, he worked with a different kind of evidence, none of which he had at his disposal now.

He knew the entire team was pacing in the lab. They had nothing to work with, nothing to analyze, nothing to sketch, nothing to poke, prod, or boil down and they were all looking to him to bring them something, anything so that they could help bring Brennan home in one piece.

He had nothing for them.

He threw the file down on his desk in frustration. He was going to kill Max the next time he saw him.

Max.

It hit him like a lightning bolt.

The letter was a warning. Max knew something was in the works. He was trying to protect her, trying to warn her.

He had to get to the lab.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: I can't give you secret family recipes. But I can update your story. :) Enjoy!**

**Sunday Afternoon**

Booth was merely a flash of a suit as he ran through the lab and headed directly into Brennan's office.

"Thank God for crime scene tape." He muttered as he rifled through her still full trash can until he found what he was looking for.

"Booth, what is going on?" Cam asked as she came into the office. He held up his hand to hush her while he read the letter.

"The letter. It was a warning!" He said as he handed it to her. "Max knew that someone was going to try and kidnap her, it's why he made contact even though he's supposed to be in hiding."

"Dear Temperance," Cam read, "I'm sorry that I've had to put you through this again. Please know that I love you and, just like when you were younger, I will always be watching over you, even when you can't see me. Love always, Max." Cam looked up at Booth.

"The son of a bitch knows who is doing this and he's not coming forward to help her." He told Cam as he kicked the trash can into the desk.

"Booth, you don't know that."

"I do. I do know that. He's going to try and handle this on his own." He dialed his cell and started pacing. "Caroline? I need all of those case files you found brought to the lab. I think we've got something."

OOOOO

**Late Sunday Evening**

"Okay, listen up. This is a list of all of the locations where Max and Ruth Keenan robbed banks." Booth told the team as he handed out the list to each person. "This group made their living by kidnapping criminals and stealing their loot. We think Max may have been a target of this group before he and his family went into hiding. I need you to match one of these case files to one of these locations and times that Max and his gang were known to have been. And guys? We needed it yesterday." The team immediately went to work, reading as fast as they could.

They worked for over an hour before Angela stood up.

"Booth?" She said as she handed him the file with shaking hands. "I think I found it. Richmond, Ohio. It's on both lists in August of 1976."

"Okay, but how is that going to help us locate where Brennan is now?" Hodgins asked.

"It isn't." Booth said as he stood up. "Just keep looking." He ordered as he took the folder out of the room.

OOOOO

"Sir, I think we've got a lead." Booth said as he walked into Cullen's office.

"So do we. I just got off the phone with a buddy of mine. He's a Virginia State Trooper. He said that they've had a rash of criminals being kidnapped in West Virginia. It matches your theory."

"Do they have an idea of where these guys might be?" Booth said, trying not to get his hopes up.

"No, but they do have a fingerprint for a Peter Phillips, originally of Charleston, West Virginia. Never captured. We've got his picture out now. What do you have?"

"This group was in Richmond, Ohio in August of 1976, the same month that Max and Ruth Keenan were there robbing banks. I think they may have been eyeing in on kidnapping the competition." The two detectives stared at each other, knowing they were close and racking their brains for something that might lead them closer to what they needed.

"We're almost there, Booth. We're going to find her." Cullen promised.

"I appreciate the work you're doing on this case, Sir. I know that it's not your usual work."

"Hey, this woman solved my daughter's case when we didn't even know that there was one to solve." He reminded him. "She may not have been able to save Amy, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let this one slide." Booth nodded, overwhelmed with gratitude that someone outside the team seemed to care as much as he did in that moment. Cullen's phone rang and he picked it up.

"Cullen." He answered. "Where?" He nodded to Booth. "I need an HRT team there yesterday." Cullen demanded before hanging up the phone. "Neighbor saw the picture on TV, said that he saw Phillips at an abandoned farmhouse outside of Augusta, white van. A team is headed to the chopper now." Booth pulled out his phone and hit speed dial.

"What are you doing?" Cullen asked.

"Calling the squints." Booth answered before turning his attention back to the phone as Cam answered. "We got 'em." He told her. "We're on our way with HRT now. We're going to light up that house like the 4th of July."

**OOOOO**

**Early Monday Morning**

After a helicopter flight and a car ride out to the farm house, Booth was dying to get inside and find his partner. However, Cullen had told him that the house had to be cleared first and he couldn't have Booth be a part of that for obvious reasons. So here he stood, bullet proof vest on, pacing like a lion trapped in a cage, waiting.

"All clear." The radio crackled. Booth and the agent next to him exchanged confused looks.

"Come again?" The agent requested on their behalf.

"All clear. No one is here, sir." Suddenly, there was a burst of gunfire as the agents in the house came under attack. Booth grabbed his gun and headed towards the house. Screw protocol, his agents were under attack and all bets were off.

By the time he made it up the driveway, it was quiet again. Agents were beginning to trickle out the front door.

"Booth!" He heard his name and spun around to see who had called out to him. "We need to talk."

**OOOOO**

**Early Monday Morning**

It was the sound of gunshots overhead that woke her in the middle of the night. She could hear loud footsteps on the floor as someone fought their way into the house. A sickening mix of terror and hope filled her and that, combined with the hunger pangs, made her glad that she currently had an empty stomach.

This was it.

Either way, this was finally going to end.

**OOOOO**

"What do you mean, she's not here?" Booth yelled. "Did you check the property? What about any out buildings?"

"Yes sir, all cleared." The young agent said.

"Then she's in that house!" He said, refusing to listen to anyone. "There is no reason for that much ammo if you aren't guarding someone. Bones!" He started yelling as he entered the house. He was desperate and he didn't care what anyone else thought. He knew she was here. She had to be. "Bones! Can you hear me?" He started pounding on the walls, looking for some sort of sign that there was a room behind one of them. When that failed, he spotted the back door and ran out into the backyard. He looked back at the house, trying to see if any windows were blocked out. It was then that he saw the door near the foundation.

A cellar.

Booth ran to the trap door and shot the lock off in one clean shot. He pulled the heavy metal door open and shined his flashlight down into the hole.

"Bones!" He saw her huddled in a corner, hand protecting her eyes from the bright light. He dropped down into the hole as fast as he could. "Bones! It's okay, I'm here. You're safe." He had never been more happy to see her and his legs nearly gave out with the relief that she was still alive.

"Booth?" Her voice was weak and cracked when she tried to speak. Oh God, she looked like hell. She was covered in dried blood, filthy, and so very pale.

"Are you hurt?" He asked as he ran his hand over her cheek. She didn't answer, just threw her arms around him.

"I knew you would come. I knew it." He hugged her as tightly as he dared without knowing the state of her injuries.

"Come on, let's get you home." He said as he called for help on the radio. She kept her face buried in his neck, not wanting to let him go and that was fine by him.

"Booth?" She whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I'm, I'm gonna pass out now..." She informed him before slumping in his arms.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Last chapter! **

**OOOOO**

**Monday Morning**

When Brennan woke up again, she was in a hospital bed. She had been cleaned up and had a variety of IVs stuck in her arm. She saw Booth sleeping in a chair next to her bed and she couldn't help but feel better.

He had found her.

He had stayed.

"Booth?" She said quietly, not wanting to wake him up but needing to talk to him. She hadn't talked to anyone in such a long time. He jolted awake.

"Hey, you're up." He said as he sat up a little straighter in his chair.

"It would appear so." She said with a smile. He stood up and grinned at her response and she felt instantly calmer.

"Welcome back." He said as he reached out and held her hand. "We've missed you."

"What happened?" She asked him.

"You passed out. We got you here, and the doctors kept you sedated while they checked you out and got you cleaned up. You're going to be fine, by the way. You've got some stitches in your head and you were seriously malnourished but..."

"Booth." She stopped his rambling with the single syllable. "Thank you." She said.

"You'd do the same for me." He said. "It's what partners do." She nodded and they relished in that knowledge for a few seconds. "There are some agents here. They wanted your statement when you woke up." Booth remembered. "The hospital is keeping the press outside, but you have a private room so you should be safe from them for as long as you want."

"The press?" She asked

"A best-selling author gets kidnapped, not even the FBI can keep that under wraps. We tried, but..."

"It's okay." She said. "What about...?"

"Dead." He said bluntly. She nodded, figuring as much.

"And my family?" She asked, wondering if they were okay.

"Max and Russ never showed up." Booth said, clearly enraged by that statement. Brennan knew that her father would have tried to do things his way, the illegal way.

"I think they did." She corrected him as an afterthought. "I heard the men talking when they brought me bread on Saturday. Max had gotten in touch with them. I don't know how."

"Not good enough." Booth said irritated. "It's his fault you're in this bed in the first place. The least he could do is show up and tell us what he knows." She couldn't disagree there.

"Speaking of which, I don't...I don't know anything, Booth." She admitted quietly. "I never saw their faces, I have no idea how many there were. I don't even know how or where you found me." Booth sighed and he sat down on the edge of her bed.

"You were on an acreage in West Virginia. In a cellar. There were four of them in the house, although we don't know how many were involved in the actual kidnapping."

"I was in a van." She remembered and Booth nodded the confirmation. "I think it was soundproofed. I pretended to be unconscious from my head wound but they drugged me before they took me out anyway. But I did collect some fibers and stuffed them in my pocket." She said as she looked around for her clothes. Booth put his hand on her shoulder.

"Bones, there's no one to prosecute." He reminded her. She paused before she laid back down slowly. All of that and there was nothing the FBI could do but take a statement and close the case. For the first time since she was kidnapped, she was irate. Booth seemed to sense this change in her demeanor but he remained silent.

"You should go get the agents." She requested flatly. "I'm sure they have been waiting awhile."

"You don't have to do that now." Booth said. "They can come back when..."

"Booth." She interrupted him curtly. "Go get the agents." If there wasn't going to be a trial, if there was nothing left to do, she wanted to put the entire thing behind her as quickly as possible.

**OOOOO**

**Monday night**

"When was the last time you slept?" Brennan asked Booth as he made his way back into her room later that evening. He chuckled to himself.

"Angela told me that you would yell at me for not taking care of myself."

"She was right. You should go home. One of us should get to sleep in their own bed." Booth shook his head.

"Cam brought me some clothes and stuff." He spread his arms and modeled his change of clothes. "I ate dinner and called Parker to find out about his soccer game. That's the best that I can do given the situation. I'm not letting you out of my sight." He promised. She must have seen the stubborn glint in his eye because she didn't argue. He took some comfort in the fact that if the situation was reversed, she wouldn't be leaving either.

"Then at least lie down and rest." She moved over, making room for him in her bed. He stared at her, unmoving, until she returned her own stubborn look. Then he hesitantly moved forward to lay down next to her, careful not to disturb any of her IVs. With both of them on their sides, they fit, but just.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly.

"Better." She replied. "Subjectively speaking, I think I'm getting better at being kidnapped." Booth didn't smile at her attempted humor.

"That's not funny." He said seriously. "I was terrified, Bones. I had no information, no evidence, no where to start looking for you."

"But you found me." She said, as if that were all that she needed to know.

"Only because of Caroline. And Max's letter. Speaking of which, I decided that I was going to kill Max while you were away. You might want to tell him to stay underground for awhile." He said seriously, giving her a head's up.

"I appreciate the forewarning." She smiled. Booth's exhaustion was catching up with him now that he was horizontal and he yawned.

"Hey, Bones?"

"Hmm?"

"No more being kidnapped. It's exhausting."

"I can't make that promise." She said. "I was kidnapped before I met you, I may very well be kidnapped again. Although, never because of someone else's talents before. Maybe that's why it felt different this time. Because I didn't know why I was being held?" She posited the thought as if it had only just struck her. Booth rolled his eyes. The things that came out of this woman's mouth...

"Will you at least _try_ not to be kidnapped in the future?" He requested.

"Well of course I'll try, Booth. What a ridiculous thing to ask of me. Why would I ever...?" She paused and Booth watched the wheels turning in her head. "Oh, except maybe in some sort of hostage negotiation or in exchange for another victim. I see your point. Yes, I will try but I make no promises."

"That's all I ask." He closed his eyes, unable to keep up with her ridiculously logical mind anymore. She must have gotten the hint because she pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.

"Goodnight, Booth." She whispered. He could have sworn that he felt her lips on his forehead, but he was already too far gone to react.

**OOOOO**

**Monday night**

Brennan watched as Booth slept beside her. She had never tucked anyone in before but judging by Booth's soft snores, she could safely say that her first time had been a success.

It had been a hell of a week, and there were even more questions that had yet to be answered, but they would wait until morning. For now, Brennan closed her eyes and appreciated the man beside her. Surely, this moment must signify what having a partner was all about: having someone to sit beside you in a bar when you're sad, to tuck you in at night when you're unable to do it yourself, to bring you extra pudding from the hospital cafeteria, to rescue you from trained mercenaries, and to threaten to kill your father on your behalf.

Every woman should be so lucky.


End file.
